


the weight we carry is love

by mrsmelchiorgabor



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 06:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2057577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsmelchiorgabor/pseuds/mrsmelchiorgabor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prompt: Carl questioning Mickey about him and Ian and Ian overhearing</p>
            </blockquote>





	the weight we carry is love

Ian had just left for work, and Mickey was finishing his coffee in the kitchen, reading a book. There wasn’t much decent reading material in the Gallagher household, so he’d settled for Lip’s Postmodern Poetry book that he’d left lying around last time he’d been home from college. Mickey was quite enjoying the Ginsberg section over his pancakes, when Carl sat next to him. Mickey hadn’t talked with him much, so he nodded, a little awkwardly.

'Hey kid.'

'Sup,' Carl replied, snatching up Mickey's last bacon strip. Mickey rolled his eyes, knowing it would be pointless to say anything. They were silent for a few more minutes, when Mickey became aware of Carl's eyes on him. He glanced up from the book and saw that the younger boy was just sat, staring at him.

'What?'

'Why are you with Ian?' Clearly, Carl wasted no time.

Mickey frowned. ‘The fuck do you mean?’

'Why are you with him? It can't just be about sex because you keep coming back. Again and again. So why are you with him?'

'I - I like him. Thought that was obvious,' Mickey said uncomfortably.

'You guys are in a relationship?'

'Yes,' Mickey said, not even thinking about it. Carl raised his eyebrows.

'So…you're his boyfriend? He's your boyfriend?'

Mickey shifted uncomfortably in his seat. ‘I guess. We’ve not really talked about it like that.’

Carl shook his head. ‘You guys are in a relationship, you guys are together - you guys are boyfriends.’ Mickey didn’t say anything. Carl continued. ‘You’ve hurt him, haven’t you? Not recently. But in the past. I’ve shared a room with him. I’ve heard him crying at night when he thinks no-one can hear. He was always careful not to cry loudly, but I could hear his choked up breathing, and the outline of his shadow on the wall would shake and shake. Sometimes I’d hear a pack of frozen peas crunching as he pressed it to his face. I’m not stupid. I know it was because of you.’

They were silent for a moment. Mickey felt like telling Carl he didn’t know what he was talking about, felt like running out, felt like doing anything but face it. So he spoke quietly. ‘Every day. I regret the things I did to him. When he left, I - I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I know I deserved that. There were so many times, before, when he did stuff for me, or tried hard because of me, or put up with my shit. All for me. I knew he was doing it but I had no clue how to tell him how grateful I was. I was scared of doing something serious or permanent with him because I was scared of what it would mean. I was scared of who I was. I was scared of the things I was feeling for him. And I couldn’t handle it, and I destroyed both of us. I regret that every day. When I came back, it was like I’d been given a second chance. I didn’t want to mess it up. I couldn’t. I don’t ever want to lose him again. I can’t.’

'You love him,' Carl said. It wasn't a question. Mickey just looked at him nervously. 'I know you can't say it, won't say it. But if you do, just stay quiet.' And Mickey bit his lip and considered telling him to fuck off. But he couldn't do that, because it would be a lie. So Mickey stayed quiet. Carl smiled. 'How did you know?'

'We were just drinking beers on my couch. Watching a movie. That's when I started to think. Maybe. But I knew - whenever walked into a room. Or said something. Just fucking smiled. His fucking smile…and laughing, god. I'd say stuff just to make him laugh. But I think he's - he's something special. Cause he wanted me in spite of everything. There's stuff you don't know. But he kept trying. He kept making me better. He's - Ian is my good.'

The two boys didn’t say anything, but Carl stood up and came to hug Mickey, who was tearing up a little. ‘It’s ok,’ Carl said quietly. A noise in the doorway made them both jump. It was Ian. He was staring at Mickey with his mouth slightly open.

And Mickey almost said, what the fuck you looking at. Almost got up, shoved past Ian and out the door. Almost ran off again. But he didn’t. ‘You heard?’

Ian nodded. ‘I came back to get my phone. Right after I’d left.’

'Right.' He almost said it wasn't true. Carl had set him up. It was a joke. But he didn't say those things. 'I meant it.'

Ian wordlessly crossed to get his phone from the table. He picked up the book that lay in front of Mickey. ‘Ginsberg?’ he said softly.

Mickey nodded. ‘Under the burden of solitude. Under the burden of dissatisfaction. The weight,’ he paused, and looked at Ian, ‘the weight we carry. Is love,’ he said quietly.

Ian smiled. ‘Yeah?’ he whispered. Mickey nodded, stood up and pointed to the page.

'I like this part.'

Ian scanned the words, then turned to Mickey and took his hand, holding the book in his other. And he murmured gently, ‘the warm bodies shine together in the darkness, the hand moves to the center of the flesh, the skin trembles in happiness and the soul comes,’ he read.

'Joyful, to the eye,' Mickey interjected, drawing closer to Ian. 'Yes. Yes. That's what I wanted. I always wanted,' he said. Ian dropped the book and cradled Mickey's face, both stumbling, both laughing through their kisses. Then Ian stopped the kiss, just to look at Mickey for a moment. Their foreheads pressed together, both breathing into each other.

'Mick, I - I love you,' Ian told him.

Mickey kissed him hard and then broke away to hold Ian. He nearly dropped him like he’d been burned, nearly told him to fuck off, nearly stormed out and slammed the door. But he didn’t. Because he didn’t want to. He wanted to pull back and look into his eyes as he said it. ‘I love you, Ian. I love you too,’ he said firmly, finally.

Carl grinned and slipped away quietly. His work here was done.

// please like/comment and send me prompts on tumblr, mrsmelchiorgabor.tumblr.com :) //

// note: the poem referred to is Song by Allen Ginsberg. I beg you, take two minutes to read it, it’s beautiful. //


End file.
